Motörhead

I am the one, Orgasmatron, the outstretched grasping handMy image is of agony, my servants r*pe the landObsequious and arrogant, clandestine and vainTwo thousand years of misery, of torture in my nameHypocrisy made paramount, paranoia the lawMy name is called religion, s*distic, sacred wh*reI twist the

We shoot power to your heart, a mighty thunderboltWe charge all batteries, we save your soulWe don’t know when we’re licked, but we turn lead to goldWe know alchemy, we bring you rock and rollWe are the ones you love, or we’re the ones you hateWe are the ones always too early or too lateWe […